


if you need to, you can keep time on me

by arabybizarre



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: But ultimately fluffy, Canon Compliant, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Angst, post 2x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:51:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabybizarre/pseuds/arabybizarre
Summary: Post 2x05. Nicole is feeling a little insecure, and Waverly does her best to put her mind at ease.





	if you need to, you can keep time on me

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is pretty short by my standards. But also a conversation I hope we get a bit of next episode. I hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> (Also, title is taken from the song of the same name by Fleet Foxes.)

When sleep finally took her, it was with such a swiftness and an intensity that Waverly couldn’t even remember falling into it. When she came to, on the other hand, it was with decidedly less grace.

The soft orange glow of a nearby streetlamp slippedin through the slats of the window blinds. Waverly opened her eyes once, just long enough to realize it was still night, then forced them shut again. Only after she reached over to find the other side of the bed empty (yet still warm from Nicole’s body) did she sit up.

It took her a moment to rub the sleep from her eyes. Feeling a bit unsteady, she stood. As far as she could tell, she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. The past seven had been filled with Mikshun’s nightly whisperings, which had chased her down into a tenuous if not completely dissatisfying rest. What weighed on her now was nearly two months’ worth of exhaustion.

Waverly gradually gained her footing as she ambled out of Nicole’s bedroom and down the hallway. Being a fairly small apartment, it only took her a moment to spot her girlfriend leaning against the kitchen counter with a glass of water in her hand, illuminated only by the faint light buzzing over the sink.

“Nicole,” she called out softly, voice scratchy. Though her voice was barely above a whisper, it still sounded uncomfortably loud in the stillness of the night.

Nicole startled slightly, glancing up at her with owlish surprise. “Waves.” She set her glass down and gripped the counter, trying on a smile that looked misplaced even in Waverly’s sleepy state. “What’re you doing awake?”

“You weren’t in bed,” she shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. It was chilly out here, wearing only one of Nicole’s old police academy tee shirts. Now that the fog was clearing a bit, she could vaguely remember slipping it on as Nicole helped her get ready for bed, putting the paste on her toothbrush for her, turning down the sheets.

There was a good reason why she’d chosen to stay here tonight, in spite of everything that Wynonna was going through. Sometimes, it just felt good to be taken care of. And after everything she’d been through recently, she needed it.

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Everything okay?” Waverly asked, walking into the light a bit more.

Nicole nodded. “I’m fine,” she said, reaching for Waverly. She took her hand, pulling her in a little closer.

Waverly burrowed into her embrace, the chill already setting in.

“Ahh,” she sighed. “Better.”

Nicole could feel the goosebumps on her arms. “You’re cold.”

“My bonus blanket abandoned me.”

“Hardly.” Nicole held on a little more tightly.

There was something in the inflection of it all, Waverly could feel. She pulled back and glanced at her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“My head hurts a little bit,” Nicole muttered, somewhat sheepish.

Waverly knew she’d tried to pass off the bump and bruise on her head like it was nothing, but it obviously hurt. Not that Nicole would ever admit that, particularly with how she’d gotten it.

Waverly frowned, reaching up to tuck a lock of red hair behind Nicole’s ear so that she could examine the bruise again. It looked somehow worse in this lighting. “Did you take anything?”

Nicole nodded again, stilling Waverly’s probing hand with her own. “It’s fine. I promise.”

Waverly seemed unconvinced, but she didn’t want to push it. Nicole was as stubborn as she was, in many ways. Still, the other woman seemed distracted – staring into the dark of the other side of the room without focus.  
“Do you want to go back to bed?” Waverly asked.

“In a minute?”

“Okay,” Waverly agreed, a little more quietly. There was an anxious knot in the pit of her stomach that she hadn’t yet had the time to address. Between trying to calm Wynonna and shake herself of Mikshun’s shadow, she and Nicole hadn’t had the chance to talk properly yet. She’d intended to tonight, but almost as soon as she’d settled into Nicole’s arms on the couch, a single glass of wine in her belly, she’d began drifting into sleep.

But if she had to hazard a guess at what was currently troubling her girlfriend, she would assume it was something related to the demon. Specifically, what it had told her.

There was a lot she couldn’t remember about the past seven weeks. But Mikshun – cruelly, tauntingly – had pushed a few things to the fore of her mind. She could remember knocking Nicole unconscious, for one thing. She could remember what she’d said, how she’d manipulated her in the demon’s last moments. And though it hadn’t come from her own mouth, Mikshun made sure she knew what it had said while in Wynonna’s body.

“I think we _should_ go back to bed,” Waverly told her, firmer this time, though no less gentle. She hadn’t meant it as a come-on in the slightest, and Nicole knew that. She bit her lip, looking a bit nervous herself, and agreed, allowing Waverly to drag her back down the hall.

They settled back into bed, Waverly lying atop Nicole’s chest, staring at the wall. She wasn’t certain there was a delicate way to begin this conversation. The thought had left her exhausted before she even began. But Nicole, surprisingly, spoke first.

“Waves, can I ask you something?”

A little nervous, Waverly didn’t want to look. Some things were simpler in the dark, when you couldn’t meet each other’s eyes. Instead, she rubbed her thumb lightly over Nicole’s clavicle and said, “Of course.”

Nicole hesitated for a moment. “If you wanted… space, you’d tell me, right?”

“Yes,” she answered certainly, having expected as much. Then, biting her lip, “I know what I want, remember?”

“I—yeah,” Nicole agreed. Waverly could feel her swallow. “But, I mean. We see a lot of each other. Some might say… too much—”

“Nicole.” Waverly stopped her. This wasn’t as easy to admit as she’d hoped. “I know what Mikshun said to you.”

“You do?”

Now Waverly sat up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked down at Nicole, pale and bruised in the dark. “There’s a lot of holes in the past seven weeks. Things I can’t remember. But the demon made sure there were certain things I wouldn’t forget.”

“So, even though it was Wynonna…”

Waverly looked away then, a sardonic smile forming on her lips. “I know more about Wynonna now than I have any right to.” She glanced back down. “Like, the way that she looks at us. Our relationship is so strange to her. Maybe not for the reason you’re thinking,” she quickly amended. “She just… isn’t partial to the whole romance thing. It’s a little foreign to her.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense,” Nicole said, not sounding overly comforted by the thought.

“Mikshun said those things because Wynonna might have found a shred of truth in them. But, again, this is Wynonna. The whole idea of _smothering_ and _needing space_ —that’s probably a bit of projection on her part.”

“And the picket fence thing?”

“That one might be true.” Waverly smiled slightly then, cupping Nicole’s cheek in her hand. “Or it might have been. I never liked thinking to long about settling down. I was too busy dreaming of traveling, of seeing all the places I read about in history books. I still do. But that doesn’t mean I want to do it alone.”

Nicole smiled too, then. Not her full, 1000-watt grin; rather, something far softer. Maybe even a little hopeful – a feeling that echoed in Waverly’s own chest.

“Well, maybe that’s a little _picket-fencey_ in its own way.”

“Maybe.” Satisfied, Waverly lowered herself back onto Nicole’s chest. Immediately, the officer wove her hands soothingly into her hair.

“If we get there,” Nicole said quietly after a few long moments, “I’d like that—to explore with you.”

“Me too,” Waverly mumbled, already drifting back to sleep, though with one minor correction on her mind:

_When_ we get there.


End file.
